Sunday, December 31, 2006

The Dream

I just got back from spending Christmas in Las Vegas. The highlight was definitely the Franco Dragone production of Le Reve. Le Reve is french for 'the dream' and I was very curious to know the interpretation this would take. How exactly does one intimate a dream?
Like a dream it made no sense and perfect sense, which of course is the ipitomy of dreaming. Monsters that lurk in our imaginations, loves realized and loves lost, inarticulate ambitions and fears that both grow and diminish when we close our eyes. A cast of characters, able to move in an effortless anti-gravity merging of air, water, wind and fire. It presented that rare inspiration that begs you to take stock of your dreams and wonder which is real, the waking or the sleeping.
In a few minutes the clock will be turning over a new year. I have many questions about this life. How it is that I came to live this exact path... I'm not certain if it is the culmination of right choices or wrong ones. At times it brings me joy but admittedly a sense of unresolve shadows my way. Is there a parallel being lived out and 'it' is the fulfilment and expression of my spiritual and physical self that just can't quite be freed in the here and now? Like a dream, it is clarity and ambiguity. Just as I find the door, I awake or fall into slumber. My resolve is to meld my nights into my days and live in an awakened dream. Vaguely aware of what goes bump in the night and bringing to center stage the beauty and power of imaginations realized and transformed.
"Le Reve is about us, about a world that's imperfect but beautiful in its imperfections." Franco Dragone

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Do you have a favorite musician, band, etc?

Without a doubt mine is Blue Rodeo. Has been for years. I can guarantee that at any one time I have at least one of their cds in my car deck and usually 2. It seems virtually impossible for me to experience listening fatigue when it comes to these guys. Whenever I hear "5 Days in May" I make everyone stop talking and listen. I lovingly refer to it as my codependent music. Somehow it triggers that thing in me, that thing that lets you know that we are all fucked up in our own way, and despite this, there is still hope for us all, even when it doesn't work out how we imagined.

I can tell you that it started in 1987 in a rec hall fifteen minutes from where I grew up, at a weekend dance. His name was Robbie, he had the most beautiful olive complexion and hazel eyes that were slightly green around the outer edge of the iris. His hair was brown and he was wearing bleached Levi's and a yellow polo shirt. He was 17 and I was giddy at being asked to dance with this older boy. We slow danced to "Try" and when it was over he kissed me. For days afterward I found myself catching my breath and replaying the melody in my head.

Don't tell me I'm wrong
Cause I've been watching every move that you make.
Hearts you steal in your make-up and heels
trouble for the man that you take.
Every time you walk in the room
I could never be sure of a smile
You were never the same way twice.
I'm falling in love Oh night after night.....
and its CRAZZ-ya-zzy.
Even now, I think of him in the music and smile.
As I've aged, so has the band. Lyrically and melodically we fit. I am moved by their style and their words. It is a bit forlorn, sometimes dark, often conflicted and always brilliant.
They met in a hurricane
standing in the shelter out of the rain
She tucked a note into his hand
later on they took his car
drove down on where the beaches are
He wrote her name in the sand
Never even let go of her hand
Somehow they stayed that way
for those five days in may
made all the stars around them shine
funny how you can look in vain
living on nerves and such sweet pain
loneliness that cuts so fine
find the face you've seen a thousand times
sometimes the world begins
to set you up on your feet again
and i know it wipes the tears from your eyes
how will you ever know the way that circumstances go
it's gonna hit you by surprise
But i know my past and you were there
in everything i've done
you are the one...
~5 Days in May

Saturday, December 16, 2006

the money shot

tonight I've come undone. it feels deleriously and deliciously wonderful. i'm a little drunk and a little euphoric. and a little on fire for all the things i've yet to do but know that i will conquer.

we take ourselves too seriously. we think things are do or die. who are we kidding? we are specks of dust in a world of wonder and joyous anticipation. we are not our house or our car or our occupation! we are. we are. we are.

we are flesh and blood. we are spirits soaring and crashing. we are tears weeping and laughter echoing. we are this mind of firing synapses and this heart of pumping blood and lungs of oxygen pockets. inhaling our humanity that reaches out like floating particles in the air.

we are not where we come from. we are this moment. only this moment. in a universe measured by our trips around the sun. we are this creative force of genius, a chip off the divinity block. if only we would let ourselves be, if only we would get out of the way and stop this sabotage. we, you and me, meeting here in this cyber moment in space, destined to break free of this illusionary life.

don't over-think it. just be with it. sit with it. dance with. walk with it. talk with it. sing with it. move with it. the rhythm in your head, the ancient beat of a drum you can't forget but haven't yet heard.

feel it. move with it. live it.

this is who you are.
The first act of honoring the self is the assertion of consciousness: the choice to think, to be aware, to send the searchlight of consciousness outward toward the world and inward toward our own being.

To default on this effort is to default on the self at the most basic level.

To honor the self is to be willing to think independently, to live by our own mind, and to have the courage of our own perceptions and judgments.

(Brandon, 1983).

Thursday, December 14, 2006

It's Coming on Christmas

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on
Joni Mitchell
I made cookies tonight. Two different kinds - chocolate macaroons, just like my mom would make when I was a kid, and espresso chip cookies. Tomorrow we are having a bake exchange at work, to help everyone get a headstart on that Christmas baking (so I was informed). Ordinarily I wouldn't bother with the baking or the exchange but truth be told, it felt really good to be productive and at the same time get lost in my own thoughts. I saw my Mom in me tonight and it pleased me.
Christmas is different this year, and not just because I'm away from home. I guess I am different and that affects Christmas. It no longer offers hope to me and I supose that is what I have always associated with the season.
But, if there is any consolation to be gained, it is in a new reverence for the healing power of love. Not in a trite way but in a deep connectivity. I'm not sure where love comes from. But it exists. And its gentleness can break us and built us in the same breath. Lately, I've been seeing too many children reaching out to be loved, desperate for it. Desperate to be heard and touched in the very sacredness of who they are and who they are becoming. It is here that my idealism meets my melancholy. Sometimes it restores my hope for the whole world. Sometimes it breaks me with cruel defeat.
I am finding joy in simplicity. Who knew baking cookies could be so meditative. Life is easy when I let it be. Every once in a while I like to come undone, let every seam unravel. Sometimes I sew it back together and sometimes I just live with it undone and marvel at how unnecessary it was in this so called art of living.
I do wish I had a river to skate away on and that my feet could fly. That indeed would be Christmas to me.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

To Kill an American or a Canadian

A nicely written piece... Written by an Australian Dentist...
To Kill an American or a Canadian - received by email Dec.12/06

You probably missed it in the rush of news last week, but there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper - an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American or Canadian, ANYAmerican or ANYCanadian. So an Australian dentist wrote an editorial the following day to let everyone know what an American or Canadian is, so they would know when they found one.(Good one, mate!!!!)

An American or Canadian is English, or French, or Italian, Irish,German, Spanish, Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani or Afghan. An American or Canadian may also be a Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho, Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as native Americans or Canadians.

An American or Canadian is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America or Canada than in Afghanistan . The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them chooses. An American or Canadian is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.

An American or Canadian lives in the most prosperous land in the history of the world. The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence (or in Canada, the Bill of Rights), which recognizes the God given right of each person to the pursuit of happiness. An American or Canadian is generous. Americans or Canadians have helped out just about every other nation in the world in their time of need, never asking a thing in return. When Afghanistan was over-run by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans and Canadians came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country!

As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan. Americans and Canadians welcome the best of everything, the best products, the best books, the best music, the best food, the best services. But they also welcome the least. The national symbol of America, the Statue of Liberty, welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built America Some of them were working in the Twin Towers the morning of September 11, 2001 earning a better life for their families. It's been told that the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 different countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and abetted the terrorists.

So you can try to kill an American or Canadian if you must. Hitler did. So did General Tojo, and Stalin, and Mao Tse-Tung, and other blood-thirsty tyrants in the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing yourself. Because Americans and Canadians are not a particular people from a particular place.

They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American or a Canadian

Please keep this going! Pass this around the World. Then pass it around again..... It says it all, for all of us.

Friday, December 08, 2006


I suppose in my own way I am a nature lover. I do enjoy the outdoors and gravitate toward items best described as organic or earthy. I prefer things as close to their natural state as possible. I grew up in a rural village, on a famous salmon fishing river, until now I have never really thought about how this has innately informed my natural likes.

But I do feel as though I must elaborate... or you might be left with the wrong impression.

1. Canoeing. Where I am from EVERYONE knows how to canoe. Everyone has a canoe. And every so often you find someone with a half ton truck to drag that canoe up the river (they actually drive it on the roadway) a ways and give you push so you don't get caught on the rocks. From here you just pretty much let the current take you and try to stay in the proper channel. A true outdoors man would consider this an assault on the art of canoeing.

2. Polar dipping. January 1, 2001 - have you ever drank a French 75? It is a combination of champagne, brandi and a splash of bitters. I dipped several times along with a couple of girlfriends. Apparently we had an audience. I woke up alone (in the buff) in the spare room of husband's boss' house. The boss chalked it up to a successful party. Husbands of dippees were unimpressed.

3. Tree surveying. I hated that day. I was lost in a 40 hectare clearcut among trees that had grown just above my head. It was impossible to see anything and necessary to shimmy your way through. Worst of all it was a spruce mixture so the needles were very sharp and kept poking me. Getting up on the stump was initially just to see where I was (the stump was about 6 feet tall). I couldn't bear the thought of spending the day in those horrid little trees, so I just stayed there and sang loudly to keep the bears aways.

4. Old Spruce Grove. This truly was amazing. I was unprepared for it. The west coast has a mystical quality - to be present in a forest like this has spiritual impact. I was there because of work, it had been a gruelling day. At one point we had followed a grizzly path as the bush around us was too thick. Had I not been forced into it (and dropped off by helicopter) that moment would never have happened.

5. I do love to laugh. Often at the most inopportune times.

So, now that you know the rest of the story...still think me a nature-lover?


This is Cathedral Grove on Vancouver Island located between the Island Hwy and Port Alberni. A very worthwhile visit if you are in the area (40 minutes north of Nanaimo).

Monday, December 04, 2006

5 Things

Rob has nominated me to tell you 5 things you might not know (or even care to) know about me. . .

1. In grade 9 my cousin Darron and I won a canoe race and were given tshirts for entering. 19 years later I am still wearing that shirt to bed - sexy. It shows its age.

2. I have polar dipped naked in the Pacific Ocean.

3. I was once hired to do tree growth surveys in a rainforest (nasty work). Instead, I found a tree stump, climbed up on it and stayed there for the rest of the day. Remarkably I was not asked to go back.

4. I have stood in an old growth Spruce grove in a remote coastal area of British Columbia, accessible only by helicopter. It felt like wonderland.

5. I really like to laugh.

And the new nominations go to...
Ms. Saltwater Princess, Ms.D, and Terri.

Hope you have fun with it girls. Its harder than you'd think.


Thanks for the fun Rob.
The dog has rediscovered the sofa.
The cold has made her grow elf feet (seriously).

Sunday, December 03, 2006


Even when I have to push just to see how far you'll go,
You wont stoop down to battle but you never turn to go.
Your love is just the antidote when nothing else will cure me.
There are times I cant decide when I cant tell up from down,
You make me feel less crazy when otherwise I'd drown.
But you pick me up and brush me off and tell me I'm OK.
Sometimes that's just what we need to get us through the day.
~Sarah McLaughlin, Push~
I feel like giving thanks. Not even sure why, other than it seems necessary. I'm experiencing a healthy bout of humility, both for things done right and a list of things that need redoing. I believe in making amends. Just the question is, how to make them? And is it so much a mending as it is a rebuilding? And is the structure that emerges mine to determine? I am certain that it is not.
There is something in my life right now that is challenging me. All of these things that I have been learning and discovering and believe about the Spirit that lives within each of us - is being drawn into a public forum and put to the test. The world on the other side of the looking glass needs to merge into this reality. What is currently reflecting is the physical me and all of those ego perceptions - and that is what I need to get beyond. It is tempting to revert back, to rest in the tried and illusionary true.
I do believe that we are spiritual beings having this extraordinary experience at playing the game of life. The rules have not been designed to bring us to a place of oneness - but rather instill the goals of material gathering and emotional numbness. Yet the thing we all desire is to be emotionally and spiritually feed - but we articulate this to our shame and are weak for the wanting.
Sometimes I get tired. Dis-courage-d. Afraid. I think that it can't be done. It will never change. I am power-less to even try. When this happens I know that I have dis-connected and need to find the source of strength - our oneness - that transcends and is patient and kind. A love that can redeem my hardened heart and restore balance, that picks me up and brushes me off so that I can make it through the day. Giving thanks that the challenge is mine.

Friday, December 01, 2006


Do not be conformed to this world (this age), [fashioned after and adapted to its external, superficial customs], but be transformed (changed) by the [entire] renewal of your mind [by its new ideals and its new attitude], so that you may prove [for yourselves] what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of Spirit.
Romans 12:2, Amplified.